


Don’t Leave

by irishavalon



Series: The Fire in Our Hearts [1]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Deadpool 2 Spoilers, Drunk Wade Wilson, Drunkenness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slight Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14768213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishavalon/pseuds/irishavalon
Summary: “Wade drapes an arm carelessly around Dopinder’s abdomen, shutting his eyes tight against the spinning world flying past the window at a dizzying speed.“Do you know you’re on my ‘Okay to Fuck’ list?” Wade slurs against Dopinder’s neck.”Wade is drunk. Dopinder takes him home.





	Don’t Leave

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place just after the bar scene at the beginning of the movie.

For three days PVD (Post-Vanessa’s Death), Wade sits in the bar and drinks until he can’t feel his feet, let alone his grief. And then he puts himself in the dead pool, ignoring Weasel’s attempts to stop him.

He’s drunk, and he’s in pain, and he doesn’t care that he pits himself against a man three times his size. He sways in front of the bear of a man, fists up and eyes slightly crossed.

One punch from the guy sends him careening backwards, and he’s not dead, but he can’t pull himself off the person he’s fallen against to get back in the fight. The man under him smells familiar, and his drunk ass moans in both pain and pleasure as he wraps clumsy arms around the man’s neck and sags against him.

“Take him home, Dopinder, please,” Weasel sighs somewhere behind them, and Wade decides that’s probably a good idea. 

Dopinder half drags him out of the bar and deposits his wobbly, hiccuping self into the front seat of his cab, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the car.

Wade still can’t hold himself upright and doesn’t much care. He slides sideways until his head rests against Dopinder’s shoulder. Dopinder doesn’t push him away. (Did he expect Dopinder to push him away?)

Wade drapes an arm carelessly around Dopinder’s abdomen, shutting his eyes tight against the spinning world flying past the window at a dizzying speed. 

“Do you know you’re on my ‘Okay to Fuck’ list?” Wade slurs against Dopinder’s neck.

“What’s that?” Dopinder asks.

Wade presses further against Dopinder. Dopinder drives over a pothole, and the jostling causes Wade’s head to slide off his shoulder. Wade falls sideways, landing with his head on Dopinder’s lap, the rest of his body curled up on the passenger seat. Wade lets out a short giggle at the chain of events before responding.

“It means even though I’m dating Vanessa, if you were available, I have permission to sleep with you.” He says, absentmindedly picking at the frayed denim on Dopinder’s knee. He sighs when he mentions Vanessa, and Dopinder takes one hand off the wheel to carefully wrap it around Wade. He doesn’t reply, and Wade merely clings to him silently for the remaining few minutes of the drive.

Dopinder helps Wade stagger up the stairs to his apartment. When they enter the studio, Wade turns under Dopinder’s arm and slings his arms around Dopinder’s neck again. One hand strays up to card through Dopinder’s dark hair. “Please,” he whispers, pressing lips to skin. Dopinder sighs heavily, and it takes all of his strength to reach up and remove Wade’s hand from his hair and the man’s arms from his neck.

“You’re drunk, Wade,” he says.

“I know,” Wade moans, trying to cling to Dopinder again.

“You’re grieving,” he says.

“I know that, too.”

“It’s time for bed.”

“But I want you.”

Something warm pools in the pit of Dopinder’s belly and his heart skips a beat at the words. But Wade is drunk; no, he’s so past drunk he’s almost all the way back around to sober. He’s so drunk he can’t hold himself up, sliding down Dopinder’s body without attempting to catch himself. Dopinder sighs again and grabs Wade under his arms before he drops out of reach, hoisting him back up to his feet. He wraps one of Wade’s arms around his neck and drapes one of his own around Wade’s waist, and they stumble towards the bed. Wade presses his lips against Dopinder’s neck again and mumbles incoherently against his skin.

Dopinder deposits Wade onto the bed, and Wade looks so beautiful staring up at him, eyes half closed, that Dopinder doesn’t think. He leans in, cups Wade’s face in his hands, and presses a soft kiss against Wade’s lips.

He only kisses the merc for a few seconds before he realizes what he’s doing. Wade is shitfaced and miserable and still grieving the loss of his girlfriend and  _ shit  _ he’s taking advantage of a sad, drunk guy. He pulls away with a gasp and scrambles as far away from Wade as he can while still sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Wade watches him in silence as he stammers out an apology, and then he slowly pulls himself into a kneeling position.

“Dopinder,” he says, breaking through Dopinder’s panicked babbling. He moves forward on his knees, but the bed is wobbly and Wade’s balance is precarious as it is, and he falls forward. Acting on instinct, Dopinder catches him as he tumbles gracelessly into his arms. One of Wade’s arms drapes over Dopinder’s neck while the other wraps around his shoulder. Wade’s mouth is pressed against Dopinder’s throat so he both hears and feels Deadpool’s tired moan.

“I miss ‘Nessa,” Wade mumbles thickly into Dopinder’s skin. He sounds so tired and so sad, and Dopinder closes his eyes and rubs Wade’s back.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I think it’s time for bed.”

Wade tightens his grip around Dopinder. “Please don’t leave.” He whispers, and then even quieter, so soft Dopinder would think he imagines it if Wade’s lips aren’t moving against his flesh, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Dopinder’s heart melts, and he knows then and there that he is fucked. “I’ll stay,” he murmurs, head bowed over Wade’s. Wade sighs in relief, and Dopinder helps his shaky, exhausted friend lie down. He takes off Wade’s shoes and pulls the blanket over him before shedding his own shoes and crawling into bed beside him.

“Dopinder.” Wade says softly. He opens unfocused eyes and reaches a hand out to touch Dopinder’s cheek.

“I’m here,” Dopinder assures him. For the first time in three days, Dopinder sees Wade smile. It’s small, and hesitant, with a mountain of pain hiding behind it, but it’s a smile nonetheless. 

Wade’s hand slides down Dopinder’s face before curling around his waist. Wade presses closer and Dopinder pulls him in. Wade falls asleep in his arms, and Dopinder follows him into a peaceful rest shortly after.


End file.
